


CAFÉ EVANS

by IcyAndTheFrostBites



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Cafe AU, F/M, Gen, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, currently being edited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyAndTheFrostBites/pseuds/IcyAndTheFrostBites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>19 year old Maka Albarn quit her job. Again. Now she's working for Wes Evans at his café. Now she has to deal with obnoxious co-workers, rude customers, and a "Little Demon" who's trying to buy the café! No one said being a waitress was easy.</p><p>All new edits 15 December 2014!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soul Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Some of you may recognize this work from FF.net and others of you may be reading this for the first time. This was my first full-length fic under my name iOc and I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> This was first posted 7 June 2009. And is still undergoing massive edits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author stuff: Once again, dearest readers, welcome to CAFÉ EVANS. I originally wrote this back in 2009 and have since wanted to edit it. I started to, a few years ago, but I stopped. I reread some of it earlier this year and was appalled by several things.
> 
> First and foremost was my use of pronouns for Crona. It was wrong of me and I apologize to so many people.
> 
> Secondly, my language and grammar were terrible. I was getting back into the groove of writing after a small hiatus and wasn't at the point that I am now. My editing this fixed all of that.
> 
> Lastly, some parts of this were just plain awful. I've grown as a writer and have realized that now.
> 
> I hope you enjoy what I fixed and made better. This was an incredible idea that I had and I'm glad so many people enjoyed it when it first came out. I hope that new folks come in and feel the love I've put into this.
> 
> I will be starting to update this entire thing 15 December 2015. To anyone who was reading this before, I am sorry about the sudden deletion of chapters. I should have left a warning up for the entire day and then do what I did.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of the characters. They all belong to Atsushi Okubo, who is signed under Square Enix in Japan and Yen Press in North America. The anime is directed by Takuya Igarashi, and produced by Bones, Aniplex, Dentsu, Media Factory, and TV Tokyo. And was released to America by Funimation.
> 
> Claimer: I do own Café Evans and Maggie.

I quit my job.  _ **Again**_.

Don't ask me  _ **why**_  I always quit my job, because, honestly, I don't think you'll get it... Okay, maybe you would. You see, I tend to get jobs where the bosses want more services than I am willing to give. They find university girls attractive, and I am a sophomore in one — DCU, Death City University, to be exact. You get where I'm going with the whole perverted boss thing wanting a nineteen-year old college girl? Good, because I've had five jobs within the past year with bosses who were  _ **all**_  alike.

Now, I'm looking for a new job, hopefully not one with a middle-aged man as my boss looking for some easy "booty" — as my peers call it. Well, I found  _ **one**_  place I'd like to work. It came highly recommended by several of my teachers who had found out about my previous employment issues.

"The manager's a decent fellow," they said. "A young man who's practically engaged. Just ask some of the other students who work there."

It would have been nice to know who the other students were, but I found the teachers were true to their words.

Wes Evans was, indeed, a decent fellow. He was tall and in his middle-twenties with tame, white hair and brilliant red eyes. He wore a white shirt with black dress pants, a simple gray cotton apron that was tied loosely around his waist, and a simple black neck tied looped around his neck and was embroidered with the café's logo. He seemed content on knowing that I wanted to work there. And he had many questions. Many questions about my previous employers.

"You said you quit all of your other jobs," he said. "Mind telling me why?"

"I, uh..." I said, trailing off. "My previous employers wanted something that, well, many girls are unwilling to give, and it was… yeah. I didn't want to give in."

"Ah. They tried to force their hand on you, and you immediately quit. Smart girl. I think you'll fit right in, Miss. Albarn."

"My teachers told me other students from DCU work here."

"Yes," he said, "some do. Follow me, please."

"Do you mind telling me who my fellow peers are?"

He led to the back of the café to a small, boxed room with a sewing machine, fabric, and stairs that led probably up to an apartment.

"Hm. Oh, no I don't mind. Let's see, you have Black Star, Miss. Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, and there's 'Death the Kid' or whatever he's calling himself nowadays."

I knew all three of them. I shared several classes with the rather obnoxious Black Star. (What kind of name is that anyway? Were his parents on crack or something when they named him? And another thing, was he  _ **dropped**_  on his  _ **head**_  as an infant?) Tsubaki Nakatsukasa was a kind-hearted girl. (She was the one went to for notes, if I missed a day. Which was a very, very, very rare occasion.) And then Death the Kid. (I still question his sanity, even after attending grade school, middle school, high school, and these two years at DCU with him. Not counting Pre-K and the miscellaneous summer jobs we had together.)

"That's it? There aren't many people working here."

"There's also me and my brother. And my Maggie whenever she can. Though, she just helps out, I don't pay her. Maybe I should next time... Ah well, I'll think about it later. Anyway, she will take your measurements."

"M-measurements? For what?"  _ **No one**_ took my measurements. Mainly because I didn't like people comparing my chest measurements to theirs.

"For your uniform. We like all of our employees to wear similar uniforms. We don't like just a nice white top and dress pants. No, ma'am! All uniforms must match down to the last stich!"

"Wes, what are you going on about?" a voice from the stairs asked.

A small woman walked down. She was followed by a young man who looked very similar to Wes, only more my age.

"Maggie, my love! Soul! Meet Miss. Maka Albarn. She's the new addition to the Café Evans family. Say 'hi'!" Wes waved his hands around excitedly as he introduced me to the two.

"Hello, Miss. Albarn," Maggie said, smiling widely. She was a petite woman in her mid-twenties, probably a year or two older than me, with black hair the fell in waves down her back and intelligent brown eyes. She wore a simple black dress that was loose fitting. Even in the dress she looked well endowed.

"Yo," said the younger version of my employer. The could pass as brothers but definitely not twins. His white hair was wild and his red eyes shone deviously under his bangs. A smirk played on his lips, reminding me of the Cheshire cat. His white shirt was not tucked into his black pants, which were held up by a belt with skulls and crossbones on bottle caps. A black tie, much like his brother's, looped around his neck, only it wasn't tied. That bothered me.

"She'll be working here from now on," Wes said, smiling. "Soul, go work up front for a while. Maggie dearest, please take Miss. Albarn's measurements. When she's done, Miss. Albarn, just come up to the front. Soul will be your supervisor, so he'll be training to. He'll be rather reluctant at first, but give a few days and he'll warm up to you. Have fun!"

And, with that, he left me alone with Maggie to be measured. She drew out a measuring tape — it was actually black and pink with little skulls with hearts for eyes.

"I'm glad to see there is another female in the staff," she said. "Poor Miss. Nakatsukasa was all alone for two weeks..."

Maggie went on talking about that for a while as she took my measurements. She wielded the tape with expertise only a seamstress had, clucking from time to time as she read the numbers. I said something every now and again, but she didn't seem to hear them. Nor did she seem to care that I said anything.

"Your uniform will be done tomorrow," she said after ten minutes of measuring various body-lengths. All the numbers were written on a piece of paper.

"Is there anything you need for me to pick up or buy to complete the uniform?" I asked.

"Um... Nothing that I can think of right now. I'll let you know if I think of something. You'd better go up front. Soul's probably bored out of his mind doing nothing."

"Is the café really that inactive?"

"Oh, no! Tuesdays are normally just slow days, so there's no pressure of a crowd today. I think that's why Wes wanted to train you today and not start you off tomorrow. Tell me, what's your schedule? For school."

"Well, I have afternoon classes Monday through Thursday. And Friday I have a night class. Then after the Friday class, I normally do my laundry down at Frankie's Laundromat. It's cheaper and a lot less crowded than DCU's."

"Ookie dookie! I'll let Wes know. Go on, I free you now! Run, little duckling, away from this hungry wolf!"

She shooed me out of the room, and I made my way to the front, glad to get away. She was a bit odd. Soul stood behind the counter, obviously bored out of his mind. He looked up when he heard me stumble over my own two feet.

Yep, I'm a klutz half of the time. The other half, I'm a ninja. Yep, that's right. You heard it from the horse's mouth. Just joshing. I'm actually the daughter of one of the best dancers in all of Death City. Shh! It's a citywide secret, don't tell anyone.

"So," he said, "you're the new employee."

Was he that slow or was he trying to be as cool as possible? Because if he was, he totally wasn't. Cool, I mean. He was, in fact, the complete opposite. Like one of those Hipsters with their knitted hats in the summer and thick-rimmed glasses and the gauges in their ears. Actually, he would have made a great hipster.

I shrugged off his ignorant comment and walked over to his side — a safe distance away of course. He eyed me curiously, the Cheshire smirk never fading away.

"Do you know how to work a blender?" he asked. I frowned.

"That's a silly question to asked," I answered.

"You'd be surprised at the number of people who don't ( **1** ). So, do you?"

"Yeah."

"How about George Foreman Grill?"

"I use one to make grilled chicken."

"A knife?" he asked, holding up a simple butter knife.

"Only morons can't use one, and only morons cut themselves with one."

"I take it you know from experience."

"My dad isn't the brightest crayon in the crayon box, or so the saying goes."

"Do you know how to use a fridge?"

"I am  _ **not**_  my father."

"A juicer?"

"I make my own orange juice every morning."

"Here's a toughie, a cash register?"

"I  _ **did**_  work at several convenience stores."

"Congratulations, you are ten steps ahead of most people. I'll give you that. How about a telephone?"

"Okay, now you're making fun of me."

"Can you carry a tray of food?"

"Now that, I have never done," I said, nearly bobbing my head down in shame.

"Good, I have something to teach you." He smiled.  _ **Really**_  smiled. I felt my heart flutter. He grabbed a plastic tray and handed it to me.

"Okay, how do you hold it," he said. I looked at him, confused. "I just want to see if you know how."

"Alright..." I said, trailing off.

I held the tray up with my left hand and used my right to balance it.

"Is your left hand your dominant hand?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"No, it just... It's more comfortable this way."

He nodded before filling up a glass of water and placed it on the tray.

"Normally, if it's just one or two glasses, you'd be carrying them with your hands, but I'm just seeing what you know. Now, walk around."

I did. Slowly at first, for my fear of knocking the water over, but then I gained confidence and walked quicker. He added another cup and another and another. It went on until I could carry eight cups of water without fear of them splashing, falling over, or the such ( **2** ).

"Good," he said when he was content. "It'll take a while but you'll get used to it. Not many can handle eight cups on the first day."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I said, setting down the tray and drinking water for one of the glasses.

"Hey, that water's for the customers."

"What customers?"

And so, I began working at Café Evans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I am amongst the large number of people who do not know how to work a blender. I once had the rubber lid in the blender and I started it. It was a tragedy. We got a new one, though.
> 
> 2\. Tray carrying information was taken from the How website (I have no idea if the page I had here was even accessible anymore). I have never worked in the food business, so I didn't know how to carry a tray of drinks, much less a tray of food.
> 
> \---
> 
> Author stuff cont'd: I know I'm going to get questioned for this: Okay, the story starts out right after Maka's classes end on Tuesday. I was going to have the story take place before her classes but decided it would be best if it started after. It's more convenient on time and whatnot.
> 
> When Soul was asking Maka all those questions, so he knew what he could train her in, the idea was inspired by A Wrinkle in Time (good book, BAD movie). There's one part when Calvin is over at the Murry household and he's quizzing Meg's intelligence. I got it from that.
> 
> There wasn't a whole lot that was altered from the original. Some parts were added and some were taken out. Mostly, the honorifics thing was deleted. That… ugh… So glad I'm past that stage of my life.
> 
> XOXO, ioc.


	2. Tabletop Foxtrot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maka's first day on the job!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author stuff: For anyone who hasn't read the first chapter, I'm editing this entire thing. This was completed back in 2009 or 2010 — don't remember which — and after reading it several years later, I wanted to fix some things.
> 
> So, welcome old and new. The first chapter was already done a little over two weeks ago. In this one, not much has changed. I still kept the Random Fact Challenge — which is hella fun to play. There was mostly grammatical stuff in this chapter that bothered me.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of the characters. They all belong to Atsushi Okubo, who is signed under Square Enix in Japan and Yen Press in North America. The anime is directed by Takuya Igarashi, and produced by Bones, Aniplex, Dentsu, Media Factory, TV Tokyo.
> 
> Claimer: I do own Café Evans and Maggie... I also own my friend's eternal soul. You see, I left my seal on his arm and if it didn't wipe off through the day, I'd own his soul forever (or at least until I released him). His girlfriend was kind of mad but I told her I could make him do things for her and she was content.

The uniform didn't look half bad on me — a plain white button-up shirt, a black neckerchief with the café's logo embroidered on it and a scarf ring to hold it in place, a black slightly-above-the-knee skirt that was made of some sort of soft material, white knee-high socks, and black loafers for my feet. It was all comfy and fit nicely.

I picked the uniform up the day before, after my Wednesday classes. I officially didn't start until that day and that made me as giddy as any kid going to Disneyland for the first time or anyone in a candy shop or my dad during Christmas.

I glanced at the clock and cursed. I had twenty minutes before my shift started.

I gathered my jacket, my purse, and my keys before heading out the door. I quickly scanned my apartment for anything else I needed. Finding nothing, I rushed down into the streets of Death City.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late," I said to Kid, who was serving a table of giggling high school girls. All of them were fairly pretty and scantily clad. Of course, this flew right over Kid's head. He was more interested in how all of them were the same height. He has a…  ** _thing_**  with symmetry.

"It's fine," he said as he directed his attention to the giggly high school students. His charm, cocky smile made them uncomfortable. "Anything else for you lovely ladies?"

Through nervous laughter, he received a 'no.' He nodded and walked away.

"Oh, Miss Albarn," he said, wearily, "you know, you're lucky to have the night shift."

"How so?" I asked, clocking in and hanging my stuff up on a hanger in the back room where Maggie stored her working materials for the uniforms.

"You don't have any stalkers, like I do. A few weird folk, yeah, but stalkers? Never. Stalkers only come out in daylight nowadays. You know, 'stalkers' has eight letters, making it perfectly symmetrical..."

I tuned him out. I had gotten good at it over the years. He had the tendency to ramble on and on and on and on about things that no one ever desired to talk about, other than himself of course.

Twenty minutes later, I asked him, stopping him mid-sentence: "Hey, Kid?"

"Yeah?" he said.

"Who works nights with me?"

"Soul, mostly. Of course, he works whenever he wants to, because he's not paid like the rest of us. He works here, just so he can get someplace to live, eat and sleep. He prefers to work nights, though. Why?"

"I was just wondering is all," I said, shrugging.  ** _Great_**.

"Oh, okay. Well, goodbye! My shift is over."

"Bye! Good luck on the test!"

He cursed, clocked out and said something about last minute studying. It was so very like him, putting off studying to fix up his home to make it perfectly symmetrical.

"Having fun?" a voice said, sending chills down my spine. I yelped and jumped away from the person behind me, wielding a dark gray, plastic tray as a shield and sword. It was a pathetic weapon.

Soul grinned fiendishly at me, his smile was one a shark would have been green with envy of. He tugged the tray out of my grasp and set it on an empty table. I rolled my eyes and walked away to hide behind the counter — a pathetic attempt to distance myself from him. Although I had only spent four hours with him two days earlier, I felt as if I'd known him for years. He was that kind of person.

"So, you're my partner," he said, eyeing me in the uniform. He seemed satisfied. "I guess I could have someone else to work with who's a lot worse."

"Like who?" I said, raising a brow. I started rearranging the plastic cup into neat rows.

"Like Kid. God, that guy's crazy. I usually wait until he's gone before coming down."

"That's not very—"

"Oi, Lady," a customer said, "can we get some service over here?"

"You'd better go help him," Soul said, sweeping his hands in the direction of the customer. He opened the register to do something... Hopefully, he was not stealing anything. I had a feeling I would be blamed if he did.

"Yeah, yeah." I walked over to the table and smiled politely. "I'm sorry for making you wait."

"Uh-huh," he said, puffing his cheeks. "I'll have a Pepsi with a grilled ham sandwich. And my son'll have a chocolate milk and the mac and cheese. Think you can remember that?"

My smile grew brighter and more painful to my cheek muscles.

"Don't worry, sir. I'll have your order in a jiffy," I said. When I turned back to Soul, I mouthed "asshole" to him.

"That's normal," he said, whispering to me as I walked past him. Louder he said, "Did you know that a Neanderthal's brain is bigger than yours?"

I blinked as him as I added water to the microwave able macaroni and cheese.

"It's true," he said, smirking. He started grilling the ham sandwich on the George Foreman Grill. "A Neanderthal's brain is way bigger."

I got what he was trying to do, piss off the rude customer.

"Not smart, Soul," I said through clenched teeth, my back to the father and his son. I spoke as quietly as I could. "That man probably doesn't get to see his kid very often and this is the only place he can go that his ex-wife approves of."

"How can you tell?"

"The guy is balding and a large gut, which means he's had a stressful time and drinks alcohol to try and help himself. He also doesn't have a ring of his finger, yet he has a son. He has a tan line, though, of where one would be. A divorce. The son's probably ten years old and seems kind of down, which is often a sign that he thinks that his parents' divorce was his fault. So thus, this is one of the few places the mother would allow her child to go."

"You like to analyze people, don't you," he said, not questioning my observations. He added the sandwich to a plate as I added the Velveta cheese to the macaroni, which I had heated up for thirty seconds as the noodles cooled to a comfortable temperature.

"It's a hobby."

We quickly added the drinks and I carried the food over.

"Alright, one grilled ham sandwich with a Pepsi," I said, setting the food and drinks down on the table. "And one macaroni and cheese with a chocolate milk. Enjoy!"

I walked back over to Soul, who rolled his eyes.

"You're..." he said, trailing off.

"Lethologica," I said, leaning against the cupboards.

"Huh?"

"Lethologica — it's a state of mind when you can't remember the word you want."

"No, you're strange and you know strange stuff."

I laughed.

"Yep, that's me. Maka the Strange," I said, beaming.

We traded our weird knowledge back and forth for most of the night. At least, until some classmates of mine came in for a late-night snack. I froze looking at them and they silenced when they saw me.

"Well,  ** _hello_**  there, Miss. Albarn," Ox Ford said, sneering. "I didn't know you worked here."

I clenched my fists. Dear Lord above, have mercy on me. I am about to deliver to you another helpless soul.

"Hello, Mr. Ford," I said, forcing a smile. I held a long-time rivalry with him. The others — Kim Diehl, Kilik Lunge, Harvar D. Éclair, and Jacqueline O. Lantern-Dupré — I had no problem with. But Ox, we'd been rivals for top of the class since Pre-K. Yeah, we even tried to top each other's finger-painting projects. Kim always won that, actually.

"Woah, Maka, when did you start working here?" Kim said, blinking her wide, green eyes up at me.

"Today's my official first day, but I was trained on Tuesday after my classes."

"No way, really? That's  ** _so_**  cool! I wish I could work here."

"Unfortunately, we're not hiring anyone else for the time being," Soul said, rather annoyed. He started again. "Maka, American car horns beep in the tone of F."

"What...?" Jacqueline said, wondering at the fact.

I rolled my eyes, smirking internally.

"Dr. Seuss invented the word 'nerd' in his book  _If I Ran the Zoo_ ," I said, leading the group to a table and handing them menus.

"Random fact challenge," Ox said, explaining to the others as they sat down at a table and flipped through the menu. "You try to see who knows the most random fact."

"Cats can hear ultrasound," Soul said.

"Children grow faster in springtime. What'll you guys have?" I said.

"We'll all take the pie of the month and some milk," Ox said.

"Clans of people who wanted to rid their land of unwanted people burned their houses down. Hence, 'to get fired'," Soul said, cutting up the pie. I filled the glasses.

"All pedestrians crossing highways in Kansas have to wear tail lights at night, according to the law."

"In Chicago, it is against the law to eat in a place that is on fire."

"Gone to Illinois, have we?" I said. "Okay, try this on for size. It is legal to protest naked in front of city hall as long as you are under seventeen years of age and have legal permit in the Windy City."

We brought the order over to the group, who listened intently to the game.

"Damn, we're not young enough! In Crete, Illinois, cars may not be driven through the town," Soul said.

"In Evanston, Illionis, bowling is forbidden."

"Aw, I like bowling! In Kenilworth, a rooster must step 300 feet from any residence if it wishes to crow."

"Oh, here's one, in Morton Grove, you are not allowed to own a handgun," I said, smiling.

"In Ottowa, Illinois, spitting on the sidewalk is a criminal offence."

"In Kansas, if two trains meet on the same track, neither shall proceed until one has passed."

"We're back in Kansas?" Soul said. He sighed, rolling his eyes. There was a playful glint in them. "In Topeka, no one may sing the alphabet at night."

"Still in Topeka — snowball fights are illegal."

"What? That's a downer. Okay, no one may scream in a haunted house."

"Still in Topeka?"

"Yep."

"Okay. The installation of bathtubs is prohibited," I said. "Move on to California."

"It is a misdemeanor to shoot any kind of game from a vehicle, unless it is a whale. Where do they come up with these laws?"

"No idea, but they're funny. In Arcadia, peacocks have the right of way, including in driveways."

"There are wild peacocks in California?"

"Apparently," I said, shrugging.

"Huh. In Blythe, you aren't allowed to wear cowboy boots unless you own two or more cows."

"In Downey, it is illegal to wash your car in the street. Okay, no more laws because it's kind of getting dull."

"Okay, Coco Cola was originally green," Soul said.

"Conception occurs in December more than any other month."

"Golf was once an acronym for Gentlemen Only Ladies Forbidden."

"It's a good thing I don't like golf then, huh? Honey is the only food that doesn't spoil."

"Suicides mostly occur on Mondays. You know, Mondays are very depressing days."

I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but smile. Soul and I spent the rest of my shift repeating random facts we thought were hilarious. Neither of us won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author stuff cont'd: Updating schedule, Mondays! I will be posting a new chapter every Monday. This gives me some leeway to procrastinate and edit at the last minute. And to write and update other things.
> 
> My main project right now is The Ugly Doll. It's a Guardians of Childhood fanfic that is based on The Nutcracker and the Mouse King by E. T. A. Hoffman. GoC is connected to Rise of the Guardians — the series takes place, supposedly, 200 years before the film. Good books, go read 'em.
> 
> All random facts can be found by a simple Google search. Whether or not these are true anymore, I have no idea. They were true back in '09, so… that's all that matters to me.
> 
> I won't be posting responses onto here, I'll be PMing people personally. So… make sure you have you can accept PMs. Because I love responding to you guys. I'll get to responding in a day or so, hopefully, if I'm not too busy doing last minute holiday shopping.


	3. Rainy Day Melody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author stuff: I used to have a poll at the top of this chapter — as well as the next few or so — that asked about some names. If you look through the reviews, that's what was happening once upon a time. I got a lot of feedback… still do.
> 
> I've spent the last week or so shopping for Christmas presents, and I'm worn out. I still need to get something for my dad though…
> 
> Anyway, Happy Holidays to everyone out there. I hope you have a good Christma-Kwanza-Kah!
> 
> Also, so many thanks to everyone who favorited and followed me and this fic. There was a whole bunch of you, and I wanted to thank each and every one of you individually but it didn't happen. (I had a ton of holiday shopping to do.) So, I'm posting my thanks and love here to all of you beauties out there. You are amazing and, if I could, I would hug each and every single one of you.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of the characters. They all belong to Atsushi Okubo, who is signed under Square Enix in Japan and Yen Press in North America. The anime is directed by Takuya Igarashi, and produced by Bones, Aniplex, Dentsu, Media Factory, TV Tokyo.
> 
> Claimer: I do own Café Evans and Maggie.

I ducked under people's umbrellas and overhangs from shops as I skirted down the street to the café. My raincoat and broken umbrella didn't offer much protection from the onslaught from the sky. It had been threatening to rain all day, and the clouds only decided to burst as I left my apartment complex.

"Late," Soul said to me from behind the counter. He was busy washing and drying dishes, as seeing how the place was bare. He looked up at me and coughed back a laugh. "What'd you do, jump in every puddle on your way here?"

"No," I said, taking off my coat. "For your information, my umbrella decided it would commit suicide and flew out my window when the winds picked up. Besides, I was three steps out of the complex when it started to pour."

"...You left your umbrella open, didn't you."

"It was raining yesterday, too! Umbrellas need to dry."

"So  _ **you're**_  the reason why we're not supposed to have umbrellas open indoors! It's not bad luck, they just fly out of windows." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"No need to be a jerk about it."

It had almost been a week since my interview at the cafe. I was quite comfortable and could pick out the regulars from curious folk who wanted to try the food. That, and after that short period of time I was starting to feel like I belonged.

"Oh, before I forget," Soul said, washing some glasses, "Tsubaki is covering for my last hour today."

"Why?" I said, counting the cash in the register — mostly out of habit — ...twenty-three... twenty-four...

"I, uh, have some errands to run."

"At three in the morning?"

...twenty-nine... thirty... thirty-one...

"...Yeah."

"What are you doing at three in the morning, Soul Evans?" I turned my attention away from the cash.

"Is that really any of your business?"

"Not really, but I'd like to know. You could be a drug dealer or crime ring boss or something."

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Please!"

"Maka... no."

"I'll scream," I said seriously. I had lungs and I wasn't afraid to use them. I opened my mouth wide and sucked in air... He clamped his hand over my mouth. I was teasing, really, but he took the threat a little seriously.

"Fine," he said. He looked around, shifty-like. "Don't be such a kid. I go to a jazz club."

I blinked. A jazz club. I've never been to one.

"Why do you go there?" I said.

"Look, there's this guy there that wants to buy this café."

"Just tell him 'no'."

"We have. One hundred and forty-two times. I understand why he wants it — great location, lots of business... He wants to convert this place into a 'swinging joint,' as he says. This is really all Wes and I have that's our own. It's our only escape from high society."

"High society? What...?" More secrets! I thought we were over hiding things from one another. Well, I didn't  _ **really**_  know him. We had only been working together for a week.

"Uh, nothing, forget I even said that part!"

"Soul!" I was whining. It was annoying — to myself and any listener.

"Look, my family isn't all it's cracked up to be. That's all you need to know."

"Alright."

I let it go after that, but I couldn't help but wondering. High society? Was his family rich or something? It was like he was an undercover character in a book or movie or something. Huh, that'd make for an interesting plot.

"Maka, stop dwelling on things," he said in his usual tone, scolding me in the way only he could. Soul has this odd way of doing things with this voice that made me giddy and nervous and excited at the same time.

The bell tinkled above the door, calling our attention.

"H-hello," a timid person called.

"Long time, Crona," Soul said, nodding to the figure.

I couldn't quite tell if this person was male or female. Crona was thin, as if half starved, and tall with oddly cut pink hair and tired blue eyes. Ze wore a long black dress with white cufflinks and plain black flats. I had reason to believe this person was female, but their voice said otherwise( **1** ).

"Here."

Soul handed the strange person a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Nobody I knew could refuse hot chocolate.

"Ragnarok didn't follow me," Crona said to Soul. "I'm just letting you know, in case you see him. I didn't tell him where I was going."

"Don't know why you're still with him," Soul said, muttering bitterly.

"He... he protects me from the people who want to hurt me."

"Who would want to hurt you?" I asked. Crona looked at me, startled, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Don't worry, Maka doesn't bite... much." Soul said, trying to be soothing.

"I'm Maka Albarn." I said, holding out my hand.

"Cr-Crona," the timid person shook my hand. "M-my name is Crona."

Well, that didn't answer any questions.

"It's nice to meet you, Crona.

"M-most poe-people are afraid o-of me."

"Why? You seem perfectly normal."

"Because they th-think that what I am is-is a disease that they can ca-catch."

"And what's that? If it's not too rude of a question."

"I-it's fine. I'm a her-hermaphrodite( **2** )."

"It's not like it's a new strain of subtype H1N1." I hummed.

"H1N1, what...?" Soul said, blinking.

"The 'evolved form of the Swine Flu.' Turns out the origins are unknown( **3** )," Crona said.

"I thought you knew a crap load of random facts," I said, arching a brow at the white-haired male.

"Eh, some facts are more important than others."

"Worldly issues aren't important?"

"The world knows it, so it's not important."

"You're really a head case, you know that?"

Crona laughed, really laughed. The poor human was rolling on the floor, struggling to breathe, and crying from the pain. I wondered what gender zey went by — male or female or neither or both…

"Y-yo-you t-two are hi-hilar-hilarious," Crona said, managing to wheeze something at us.

The bell above the door rang and in walked at tall, dark, muscle-bound man. A white 'x' crossed his face. A spiked dog collar wrapped around his neck; similar cuffs were around his wrists and his ankles. His hands were gloved and his feet were booted. He was bald but wore a black leather hat. His belt was studded and held up spandex bottoms that only covered what was necessary and deemed decent for society. To me, he looked like something out of a kinky porn movie; he was only missing the whip( **4** ).

"There you are," the man said. His voice was higher than what I had expected. It wasn't the rumble of thunder, it was... annoying, to say the least.

Crona winced and said, "H-hi, Rag-Ragnarok."

"So, you came to see your friends?"

"Ye-yes. I'm so-sorry I didn't t-tell you wh-where I was g-going."

"Huh... Who's the new chick?"

"Maka Albarn," Soul said. "She's annoying."

"She-she's rather ni-nice," Crona said.

"Whatever," the man said, folding his arms as he circled me. Like anybody else would have felt, I was the poor dead animal to some circling, carnivorous vulture.

I felt a light breeze from behind and yelped and grabbed the nearest thing: a phone book. It chopped him on the head. Someone was going to wake up with a headache that no hangover could compare with.

Soul and Crona both looked on open mouthed, gawking.

"What'd you do that for?" Soul said — shrieking in a high voice I'd never expect from him — recovering the fastest.

"He lifted up my skirt!" I said, shrieking back.

"You didn't have to knock him out with a  _ **phone**_ _book_!"

"I don't think a  _ **slap**_  from  _ **me**_  would have done the job!"

Crona hunched over the body of Ragnarok and poked him with zir finger.

"H-hey, Ragnarok? I'm r-ready to g-go. Rag-Ragnarok?" Crona said, ignoring the surrounding world.

The bell chimed it happily and in walked two people. I would have almost thought them siblings but the age difference would put them as father and daughter.

"Soul," the little girl said, practically singing. She pranced over the unconscious Ragnarok and was swept into a friendly hug. "I'm hungry, can you make me a cheeseburger?"

"Sure thing. Want fries and a shake with it?" Soul said setting her down on a stool.

"Yay!"

I looked at her and sighed. An annoying kid at... 9:30 at night. Great, I've only been here for a half hour.

The man that accompanied the girl looked at Ragnarok's body and cocked a brow.

"R-Ragnarok looked u-up Maka's sk-skirt and sh-she hit him on the h-head w-with a ph-phone book," Crona said, feeling the need to explain. "P-Poor phone bo-book."

"I didn't mean to hit him  _ **that**_  hard," I said, muttering under my breath. I looked over at the man. His face was serene but I could tell he was amused.

"Mifune's not a man of many words," Soul said, grilling a burger and quickly frying some fries. "He likes children, which is why he's Angela's bodyguard."

"I'm not a child," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Ah, but in his eyes, you are."

I snorted and studied the two.

Angela was a girl about ten or eleven, at the most. Her brown hair was chopped into a messy bob that framed a rather angelic face. Her ruby eyes were innocent and were blessed with long lashes. She wore a simple green dress under a simple green raincoat, which she discarded on the floor — I hung it up on a hook not too far from her seat.

Mifune wore a white shirt that was loose and showed off his chest. His blond hair was long and pulled back into a lazy ponytail. His blue eyes were lazy and his lips were thin. He chewed on a reed and watched what was going around him with little interest.

"She's pretty," the girl, Angela, said, swinging her feet back and forth on the stool. "Don't you think, Soul?"

I looked at Soul. His cheeks had a slight pink hue to them. He turned away, so I couldn't see him.

"She's not ugly," Soul said.

"Pretty Lady, Soul thinks you're  _ **very**_  pretty." Angela said to me, giggling.

"I do not!"

"Don't lie to Pretty Lady, Soul. Lying is bad." she scolded.

"I don't think she's pretty!"

After things winded down, and Soul and I were alone again, I popped the question that had been nagging at my conscious.

"Is your family rich?" I said.

"Why do you ask that?" he said, blinking.

"It's been bugging me since earlier( **5** )."

"Well," he said, leaning back on a chair, "you ever heard of the prestigious Evans family?"

"Yeah, they own that big house down on Crossbones Avenue that they visit once every five years. What about them? ...Wait,  _ **you're**_  a prestigious Evans? One of  _ **them**_? No way. No freaking way!"

"Yeah, well, it's not that great. Mom decided that all of her children would take up instruments. Wes took up the violin, my eldest sister Norma decided that since she hates instruments and she would sing instead, and my youngest sister Esther plays the flute( **6** )."

"What about you?" I said, not missing a beat.

"What about me?"

"What instrument do you play?"

He grumbled something.

"What?" I said.

"Piano."

I blinked. He didn't look like the type of guy to play the piano. Then again, he didn't look like the type of guy to do anything.

"I wish there was a piano here so you could show me."

The bell above the door jingled, signaling that we had a customer. Soul froze at the sight of the man. I could only stare.

He didn't look human — in fact, I don't think he was. He looked more like a very short demon. His skin was a burning scarlet. His yellow eyes burned wickedly and his teeth glinted with a crooked smile. His ears pointed outwards in deadly points. Twin, pearly white horns jutted out from his forehead. His pinstripe suit was neatly pressed. He looked frightening.

"Well, hello, Soul," the demon said.

"Get behind me," Soul said, practically growling to me quietly. I did so. His voice was feral when he spoke to the strange man, "What're you doing here?"

"Why, the meeting, of course. Tell me, who is your lovely friend behind you?"

"Leave her out of this."

"Ah, so  _ **this**_  must be Miss Maka Albarn. Miss Albarn, it is a  _ **pleasure**_  to meet you in person. Soul has told me all about you."

"Who...?" I said, suddenly terrified that this strange person in front of me knew my name. "Who are you?"

"Why, my dear, just call me, Little Demon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Since Crona's gender is unknown, and probably will be for a long time, I used the gender neutral nouns instead — "ze" and "zir" and "zey." (Although, I don't really see zey used very often anymore.) I originally used "they", which wasn't really insulting, I just felt the need to use the appropriate modern terms.
> 
> 2\. Hermaphrodite: A person with both male and female reproductive organs. Derives from Hermaphroditus, the son of Hermes and Aphrodite. Hermaphroditus fused with a nymph, Salmacius, and then had both reproductive organs.
> 
> 3\. In 2009, everyone was in a panic about Swine Flu — or H1N1. I wrote it in as kind of a joke.
> 
> 4\. Crona was either going to have split personalities (good side: Crona, bad side: Ragnarok) or Crona and Ragnarok be two different people. I liked two different people because... well one of my cousins reminds me of Ragnarok and another reminds me of Crona. It's pretty funny to see the two together... and kind of creepy. The one that's like Ragnarok is kind of... kinky, as the few of us say about him. So, that's the inspiration of that.
> 
> 5\. This line honestly bugged me. It's not proper English. At all. But it's how people around here talk, so what else is expected. Heck, I even get caught talking like that. All improper and whatnot. A normal person might say "It was bugging me earlier." But no, here it's "It's been bugging me since earlier." My cousin thinks I'm weird, he just wants to let you know that.
> 
> 6\. I noticed that Wes sounds like West and Soul sounds like South. So, I thought what is they had sisters whose names sounded like North and East? Thus, Norma and Esther were born. Norma was rebellious and sings instead of playing the harp or something. Esther I was going to have as a dancer but decided flute for her, just because I felt that Norma being the rebel was enough. Esther is, by far, the one OC that everyone adores and dotes on.
> 
> \---
> 
> Author stuff cont'd: So, yeah, this was one of the chapters I really wanted to edit and show my respect to all the different genders — which can get confusing at points, but should still be recognized by society.
> 
> And you get to meet the antagonist. Yup. Very exciting.


	4. Dance with the Devil Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author stuff: So, rereading my old notes at the top of this thing, I realized that this was posted just after I graduated high school. That is the weirdest thing for me. I graduated five years ago — had a mini reunion with some classmates at an anime convention this past summer — and I went to see Wicked later that winter, when I was wrapping this up.
> 
> Now, I've decided what I want to do with my life — medieval archaeology — and I went to go see Mary Poppins yesterday. If you get the chance, see it!
> 
> Which brings me to why this is late. I was supposed to watch a puppy last Monday, but turned out my mom's friend's boyfriend's daughter got sick and the boyfriend was going to stay home and watch her and the puppy. So, I went post-Christmas shopping for an outfit to wear to the musical. Found one cute dress, but it was a pretty penny and I didn't feel like spending money on a dress I might wear every once and a while. I rescheduled the post for last Tuesday, but I hadn't edited this yet. So, date changed to Wednesday. And then got moved back because I got sick.
> 
> Sorry about that.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of the characters. They all belong to Atsushi Okubo, who is signed under Square Enix in Japan and Yen Press in North America. The anime is directed by Takuya Igarashi, and produced by Bones, Aniplex, Dentsu, Media Factory, TV Tokyo.
> 
> Claimer: I do own Café Evans and Maggie.

"Who... who are you?" I said, my voice barely audible.

"Why, my dear, just call me, Little Demon."

Soul tugged me behind further him, as if he could protect me better. The strange little, red-skinned man grinned maliciously up at me. My skin crawled, and I subconsciously reached for Soul's arm and pulled it close, as if it could protect me from the Little Demon's stare.

"No, Soul," he said, as if reading his mind, "I will not leave. And the police cannot force me to leave, despite this being private property. Remember what happened last time? I came in to discuss the plans with you, as it seems Wes doesn't want to talk to me, and to eat. The food is quite good here. I'm positively famished."

"Maka, you can go home now," Soul said through barred teeth.

"I would prefer if she served me. That is the only way I will be satisfied this evening."

The crazy look in his wide eyes and his terrifying grin froze not only my blood but the very marrow in my bones.

"Maka,  _ **go home**_." Soul said, breaking the spell. "I can call up Tsubaki and let her know some plans have changed. Just grab your stuff and go. I can handle him."

I hesitated, not wanting to leave him alone. Soul was an idiot, but he knew this guy better than I did. I decided to do as I was told. I grabbed my stuff and jetted out of there as quickly as I could. I didn't spare a glance back. I knew the Little Demon wasn't finished yet and he wouldn't stop leaving the Evans family alone until something  _ **big**_  happened.

I prayed that something wasn't bad( **1** ).

* * *

I almost chucked my brand new cell phone down at the cement of DCU's courtyard. But I thought about it getting scratched up (and probably reported for defiling school property). I didn't need to pay any more fees than was possible right now. Besides, Papa would kill me — or at least kick me into next week. He could do worse, like make me hang out with him for a whole evening.

I hadn't been able to sleep well last night because I felt bad about leaving Soul alone to deal with that freak of nature Little Demon. His name suited him quite well, it was a little jarring. I just prayed that he didn't give Soul  _ **too**_  hard of a time last night.

"Rough night?"

I turned and saw Tsubaki standing there, looking as sweet and kind as ever. She was all done up in a boho-esque costume — or her everyday clothes, as she called them — and looked like she walked out of a magazine ad for some expensive store I would never be able to shop from.

"Yeah," I said, sighing and twirling my dull, blonde hair around my finger. Maybe I could dye my hair an interesting color. Hm...

"What do you think of him?" she said, sliding down to sit down on the water fountain's edge next to me.

"Who?"

"Little Demon."

"Oh. He kind of scares me."

"You sound kind of disappointed. Did you want to talk about another 'him'?"

"No, I'm good." I bolted up and started to walk away. She pulled me back.

"That's what all crushing girls say. Well, at least according to  _Cosmo_. Come on, Maka, girl talk. Who are you crushing on?"

"No one, honest to god."

"Maka...!"

"Fine." I mumbled my crush's name incoherently. Who would want to know why I was crushing on Soul in the first place?

"I didn't hear you, Maka. Stop being such a fuddy-duddy."

"Soul," I said, half groaning, half whining. I sort of surprised myself. I looked at her through my lashes. "Don't you dare say anything."

That threat was empty. She knew it, I knew, everyone knew it. I could never hurt Tsubaki, no matter how mad she made me.

"Why would I say anything? Soul's a nice guy with a little bit of an attitude. But you could do worse," she said sincerely.

"Yeah, I could. Take Black Star... Oops."

"It's alright, I know how you two feel about each other. You and Black Star are worse than… who are those two from  _Once Upon a Time?_ "

"Regina and Emma?"

"Yeah, those two. Their constant back and forth for drama… It's getting kind of annoying."

I smiled slightly. I had accidentally got her hooked on  _Once Upon a Time_  during its first season. Now, she dragged me to her place every Sunday to watch the new episode, if and when it was on.

"I still feel bad," I said.

"It's okay, we've only been dating for, like, three years, now."

"Tsukabi..."

"Well, I got to go before I'm late for class. Oh, is it another lecture today?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. Do you want to borrow my notes?"

"No, I'll be good."

"You sure? I do know how to take good no~otes," I said, ending in a sing-song voice. I held the notebook out to her.

Tsubaki smiled, knowing the temptation.

"Positive," she said, waving and walking into the wood and stone building.

I waved back, though I don't think she saw me, and started to head to my apartment to get ready for work. It was a nice day out, so I felt no need to rush.

"Ah, Miss Albarn."

I looked up, startled half to death. It was the Little Demon. Unfortunately for me, his goons were with them and all of them were three times my size. Well, that wasn't goof.

"You have kept us waiting," Little Demon said, chuckling to himself. He gestured to a rather nice black car. "Come, we shall discuss things over tea."

I backed away, only to bump into one of the large goons.

This day was just one of those days I knew would be bad the second I rolled out of bed.

Why hadn't I listened to my intuition?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Originally I was going to have Maka stay, but I just couldn't write it. It didn't work in the plot line that I had planned (or what little I knew of it up until this chapter).
> 
> \---
> 
> Author stuff cont'd: I actually edited out some rather clunky stuff from this. I hope it's not too noticeable. This was always one of those chapters that made me wince when I went back and read through it. Glad I smoothed most of it over.
> 
> I hope everyone had some good holidays. I got lots of great things — my number one thing, that I wanted for my birthday and never got, was the Build-A-Bear Toothless. And I was there when my mom bought it. Totally kissed the heart. (I'm 24. I shouldn't be allowed this be this adorable or dorky.) What was everyone's favorite gifts?


	5. The Fist and Foot Tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author stuff: Sorry for long wait. I really have no reason for it. I meant to have a chapter for you guys every Monday and… that's slowly slipping out of my grasp, even with reminders on my phone.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter. What can I say about it? When I first wrote it, I struggled with the main conversation here and then the scene after that.
> 
> I didn't get to thank everyone — but I did get quite a few of you — but here is my love and many thanks to all of you who have thus far followed this fic and added it to your story alerts list. Really, you guys have no idea what it's like to wake up from a nap with ten or twenty emails.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of the characters. They all belong to Atsushi Okubo, who is signed under Square Enix in Japan and Yen Press in North America. The anime is directed by Takuya Igarashi, and produced by Bones, Aniplex, Dentsu, Media Factory, TV Tokyo.
> 
> Claimer: I do own Café Evans and Maggie (who's with Wes right now. Doing what... well all of us could probably guess something perverted, but they're really knitting).

The Rolls Royce was a very comfortable vehicle, I had to admit, but I wasn't really enjoying it. I felt claustrophobic between two muscle bound men on the bench seat. I mean, who would enjoy being kidnapped? Just a few freaks... I could probably list the all of them off the top of my head.

"I'm quite sorry to take you like this, Miss. Albarn," the Little Demon said, looking at me. "We didn't really get to talk last night, what with Soul quite rudely kicking you out during your shift. I need to sort things out between us. I'm afraid the only way I could smooth things over, was to take you back to my club and talk. I apologize. Ah, look, we're here."

It was a quick ride.

On the outside, the building was black and the windows reflected the street outside. The sign above the door red 'HELL FIRE' in big, bold, fiery letters.

I was pushed out of the Rolls Royce and lead into the building by two of the men.

The jazz club was a spiffy — that's right, I said spiffy — place. The tiles were a checkerboard red and black. The table tops, bar counter, and curtains matched. The walls were pure black painted cement bricks. There was a decent sized stage in the back. Red furniture placed strategically in the corners was shrouded by marble stone barriers and plants. It was a well thought out layout.

"Do you like what you see?" the Little Demon said, sitting down at one of the tables with a crystal glass with amber liquid in it.

"It's..." I said, hesitating to answer him. I didn't want to say it was nice, but I didn't want to appear rude either. Finally, I said, "It's different."

"Sit, you'll feel much more comfortable." He waved his hand to a chair opposite the table from him. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, thank you."

He frowned and gestured to the guards. They lifted me off the ground — I'm not sure how — and deposited me in the chair across from him. I'm pretty sure I could go after them for harassment.

"Now, you're probably wondering why I asked you to come here. As you know, I'm trying to take the café from the Evans boys. They're spoiled brats, always have been. I've seen them grow up you know from spoiled little tykes to spoiled adults. And not just Wes and Soul, but their sisters Norma and Esther. Their parents are good friends of mine. So, you know, I know many things about all four of the Evans children. But there's one thing I don't know. Do you know what it is, Miss Albarn?"

I clenched my fists under the table —they would be sore when I unclenched later and were probably white. Not only as I frightened of him, but he was demanding. I don't like demanding people. Which makes sense Fate would place me as a waitress.

"No." I managed to answer through tight lips. I didn't really believe him.

He studied me, seeing if I really knew. I didn't know, and that was the truth.

"What I want to know is why Soul Eater Evans would take interest in you, Maka Albarn."

Just then, the door slammed open, causing both the Little Demon and myself to jump. Soul stood in the doorway, looking none too happy.

"I thought I told you to leave her alone," he said, practically growling. His white hair fell into his face, and his red eyes glared viciously through the colorless strands.

Several muscle bound men rushed at him. Soul easily dodged them, being small and lithe as he was. His fists collided with guts, chins, eyes, and much more private parts as he defended himself. His legs did the same. He was a whirlwind of color. It was glorious and something out of those romance novels I used to read in high school. It was kind of disgusting.

"Come along, Miss Albarn," the Little Demon said, grabbing my wrist. He was stronger than he looked. His long finger nails pinched my skin as he pulled me along. "We need to finish our conversation elsewhere."

He tugged me into a back room and locked the door.

I struggled to release his grasp, grunting and stumbling. I dug my nails into his fingers and tried to bite them off, to no avail. I wasn't the damsel in distress type, I could fend off others, but for some reason my method weren't working on him.

I looked around the room frantically. I spotted a back door, a desk with books, and a bookshelf. I smirked to myself.

Grunting, I pulled him toward the desk. I grabbed a decent sized book that was within my grasp and cracked him on the head with it. He slumped down.

I dashed to the back door and fumbled with the lock. I could now understand how those girls in horror films felt. I finally got the door unlocked and I opened it. In time, too; he'd just woken up.

"Stop," I heard him say as I dashed out the door.

Four hands pulled me out of the building and dragged me through the alley. I went to slap them away when I saw they weren't the Little Demon's men. They were two young women, a little older than myself.

"Hi, sorry for just grabbing you," said the smaller of the two, "but Liz and I were trying to break open that door for the past five minutes to go in and get you. Oh, I'm Patty, by the way, and this is my big sister Liz. We're friends of Kid and Soul and Black Star and Tsubaki and Wes and Maggie. Tsubaki texted us that she had seen you taken by that freak and then we told Kid and then he told Soul and then Soul asked us to help him save you. Normally we don't do heroics, but Soul made you seem so nice, so we had to help."

As she babbled, we had left the alley and were running down the street to the café.

"Ignore Patty," Liz said. "She just likes to hear the sound of her own voice."

"I do not!" Patty said loudly.

"What about Soul?" I said, peeking over my shoulder to look back. There was no one chasing us.

"Don't worry about him," Liz said. "He can defend himself."

Kid opened the doors for us and we dashed in. He closed it the second I was in. We stood there for several minutes, catching our breath.

Someone held out a glass of water to me. I took it willingly and chugged it down, loving to cool wetness of the water and it trickled down my throat.

I smiled at the person who handed me the water.

"Thank you, Maggie," I said, suddenly feeling very worn out.

"Are you alright?" Maggie asked. "Did anything happen to you? What did that demon want?"

"I'm fine, just a few bruises on the wrists and arms. He only wanted to ask a few questions, at least, that's what I  _ **think**_  he wanted." I turned to Liz and Patty and bowed. "Thank you."

"No prob," Liz said, flipping her long, blonde hair back. She wore blue jeans that were neatly tucked into a brown pair of cowboy boots. A red t-shirt hugged her torso, showing off her body.

"You're welcome," Patty said, saluting. Her blonde hair was cut just below her chin and flipped outwards. She wore a similar red shirt to her sister's, only it seemed tighter on her. She wore the same brown cowboy boots. The only real difference between them was that Patty wore blue jean shorts.

"I hate the fact you two aren't symmetrical," Kid said.

"Oh, not this again," Liz said. Patty burst into a fit of laughter, which was rather loud and very annoying.

"Glad to see you're alright," Maggie said, Pattyng me on top of my head.

"Maka, why don't you take the day off," Wes said.

"No, it's fine," I said. "I can still work, really. I'd probably be safer here than at my home, anyway."

"Good point..."

"Hey, Maka, follow me," Maggie said, waving me to the back.

I followed her upstairs to a neat apartment. Despite the wealth of the Evans family, Wes, Maggie, and Soul lived in an apartment with used furniture. Nothing exactly matched. The lamp and the couch clashed with each other and the rug spread out on the hardwood floor was pulled in several spots. All of the little tables were various colors. One of the couches mismatched cushions had duct tape on a corner in order to hold it together.

It felt like home.

"You can stay up here until it's time for your shift," Maggie said. "You use this remote to turn on the television and to turn up the volume, and you use this remote to turn on the TiVo and to change the channels."

She gave me to two remotes and left me to myself.

"I have some cleaning to do," she said.

I turned on the TV and XFINITY, and flipped precariously through the channels until I found something that looked interesting — a cooking show on the east coast somewhere with a blonde female host and a cheesemaker who was a reoccurring guest. My mind wasn't really on the screen, it was thinking about Soul.

* * *

I woke up in a dark room and found I was wrapped in something warm. I was in someone's bedroom. A quick look at the walls and various posters told me it was Soul's. Blushing, I shot out from under the cover and was immediately met with the cold air.

I looked around, rubbing my arms for warmth. Soul kept his room clean. There was his bed in one corner (the only thing that was messy), a computer and a desk with neat stacks of CDs, and a closet in another corner. Next to his bed was a bookshelf. There were several manga series and issues to the  _Rolling Stone_ ,  _Spin_ , and gaming magazines. The clock on the bookshelf read 12:32.

My shift had already started.

I quickly made the bed and left the room. The family room beyond the door was dark. I felt my way through the shadows to the stairs and climbed down them carefully. I saw the lights from the café from under the door. I bumped into several things as I made my way to the only non-livable part of the building.

I winced at the lights and almost regretted waking up.

"Hey," Soul said, blocking the light. He must have heard me stumbling around.

"Hey," I said back, blinking rapidly as I hoped to clear the bursts of light in my eyes.

"Can we talk?"

"Yeah, but... can I fix my appearance first? I don't want to offend any customers."

I walked to the public bathroom the café had, using my memory of the layout to help me get there and only bumping into a table once. The bathroom was simple — toilet, sink, a soap dispenser, and hand dryer.

I sighed and leaned on the sink, looking into the mirror. My hair was a mess, there were circles under my eyes, my clothes were wrinkled. I needed a shower.

I pulled my hair out of the twin pigtails and combed the strands with my fingers, getting most of the knots out. I tugged at my clothes and fixed them as best as I could — which wasn't much, given the circumstances. I turned on the water and splashed it on my face. I wiped off the water and looked at myself in the mirror.

I looked a little better.

I smiled.

That… that was worse. I looked like the dead brought back to life. Eesh. No smiling. Smiling is a very, very, very bad choice.

I walked out of the bathroom and sat in front of Soul at a table. We sat silently for several minutes before either of us spoke.

"You should quit," Soul said.

"What?" I said.

"This place... Maka, you should quit."

"Why? I  _ **like**_  working here. I'm not going to quit. And even if I did quit that... that  _ **freak**_  is going to come after me."

"...What did he want to know?"

"He..." I hesitated in telling him. I bit my lip and looked down at my shaking hands in my lap.

"Maka, tell me," he said. I looked into his eyes and felt bound to tell him what he wanted to know. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to know why you are interested in me."

"...Did you tell him?"

"Soul, why  _ **are**_  you interested in me?"

He looked at the floor. After a moment, he answered, "I can't say... not yet, at least. And he already knows, he was just trying to see if  _ **you**_  knew. I plan to keep it that way, too. So long as you don't know, you're safe."

"He'd still come after me, even if I quit, Soul. And he doesn't really scare me. He's, like, half my size. Hardly a frightening."

"Maka, this whole thing goes deeper than just this café."

"It has to do with your family, doesn't it? He told me he knows your whole family. That's true, right? Soul, please tell me."

"Yeah, it does have to do with my family. But I can't tell you right now. Some other time, I will, I promise."

"...Okay."

We sat in silence again.

"Hey, Maka...?"

"Yeah?"

"Never mind, I'll ask you tomorrow," he said, turning away and heading to service a customer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author stuff cont'd: So, things heating up. Soul is interested in Maka, and he won't admit it. Maka is oblivious. (I'm pretty sure it's canon.) And I'm really too tired to add a whole lot more.
> 
> Chicago is currently buried under of more than a foot of snow right now and I don't have any boots that reach my knees… that don't need to be fixed. My dog is bored, I'm going stir crazy, and my sister is watching Friends.
> 
> If I had money, and a better car, I'd go to the movies right now. Something interesting has to have been released, right? …right?
> 
> If all else fails, Game of Thrones marathon.
> 
> xoxox, iOc

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I am amongst the large number of people who do not know how to work a blender.
> 
> 2\. Tray carrying information was taken from: http (semicolon slash slash) .com (slash) how (underscore) 2054539 (underscore) carry (dash) . I have never worked in the food business, so I didn't know how to carry a tray of drinks, much less a tray of food.


End file.
